PSA: Don’t Pick Me Up Before You Go-Go

Apologies for the radio silence around here lately. I wish I could say I’ve been super busy for the past few months but that’s only partly true. Work (end of year panic times) and the holidays have kept me somewhat occupied. It’s also my laziness that has gotten the best of me. I swear I will fill you guys in on some of the things going on in Erica with a C Land like Halloween (long overdue) and also my DISNEY TRIP (spoiler: it was effing awesome)!!

Top: Snow in Bryant Park| Bottom Left: The Rockefeller Center Tree| Bottom Middle: Celebrating Hanukkah with my Menorah| Bottom Right: Holiday Market at Bryant Park

There is something I would like to bitch about ASAP though. It’s a topic I’ve mentioned in the past.  It’s near and dear to my wicked little heart.

Last Friday I went out with Sarah, Karen, and Karen’s BF. We went to a bar way uptown, which was playing some pretty awesome music and talked to some boys. Karen’s BF happened to meet up with some friends and we all socialized. Drinks were bought, dancing ensued, and fun times were had. I was also chatting up some guy from New Orleans who was visiting a friend of his for the holidays. That’s cool; NYC is awesome any time of year and the holiday season is a great time to be here. He kept complimenting me on my overalls (I will have to repeat this outfit, I meant to take a pic except whoopsies) but didn’t make enough of an impression to get a nickname.

Sometime later in the evening we decided to switch bars and the guy from New Orleans didn’t think that was a great plan. Him and his friend called it a night and that was that. Turns out the bar was closing anyway so the crew decided to head back to someone’s apt for a night cap. We all piled into taxis and made our way over to hang out. There were some crazy discussions and I was my usual sarcastic self. Apparently one of the friends thought this meant he should ask for my number.

Listen, we said about five words directly to each other and participated in a group chat. I declined respectfully, I wasn’t going to go through the whole ignore you when you text me business. You’re a friend of a friend I’m going to be straight with you, deal with it. He took the rejection fairly well at the time or at least I thought. At that point it was getting late so we figured we’d all head home and call it a night. The guys walked us out and as we said good bye the very topic I’ve talked about before presented itself again.

Hello Sunrise, what are you doing up so late?

This fool who was leaving without my number decided it was totally cool to not only give me a big hug good bye but to physically pick me up off the ground as well. WHY IS THIS A THING?? Seriously, when was this determined to be okay? Did some stupid girl spread rumors that it’s completely acceptable to pick us up?  Nice Erica left the building and Violent Bitchy Erica took her place. I told this moron to “PUT ME THE FUCK DOWN” with a few punches to emphasize my point. I kept yelling at him “THIS IS NOT OK” and “WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE”! His brilliant defense was just this “Oh, well you’re so petite.” Um no. This may be true, I’m only 5’2 and a ½” but the ½” counts!! Squirrels are small and cute but you’re not going to go around picking them up. You might get rabies and I will punch you.

Clearly this jackass doesn’t read my blog. Not only did I deny you my digits but there was no hinting that I wanted to be picked up like a child. Ughhh, THIS MAKES ME SO ANGRY!! Unless I specify that this is something I want, don’t you dare pick me up.   I will yell at you and as I’ve demonstrated will also try to beat you up. Not the most mature way to handle the situation but you leave me no choice. My feet are not on the ground so I can’t push you away, punching it is. It’s been pretty effective in the put-me-down-now department. I’ve said it before but despite appearances (or sometimes actions) I am an adult woman.   There is no reason on Earth to assume lifting me off the ground is a thing I’m going to enjoy or think is fun. DON’T FUCK WITH ME ASSHAT.

Lesson to be learned: I may be adorable and petite but I will go full rabies squirrel on your ass. PUT ME DOWN.

That’s Not My Name: I’ll Call You Whatever I Want And You’ll Like It

Have you ever gone over your list? You know, THAT LIST. I did just that recently and realized that most of the guys on it I had to recall by nickname. There were a few that I remembered based on the bar, special occasion, or even what national holiday it was. Oops. You know you’ve sat around with your girls and someone says, “Hey, you remember that guy we met at that bar?”

Many nicknames stem from either a physical attribute or something stupid a guy has said. I can’t be bothered to remember your actual first name if you don’t deserve it. It also goes without saying that some guys have terrible names. I mean Eugene? What was your mama thinking? This happened on two separate occasions, one after the other. Seriously.

Nobody wants to be referred to as The Married Guy or Micro-peen. So why do we do that to someone?  In all honesty it’s easier to tell your friends about the guy you didn’t know was married (and met on OKCupid) until you did a little Facebook research when you can give him a snappy nickname. Certainly Micro-peen was disappointing and not going to be remembered by his name. It’s probably Mike or Joe or Matt. Boring.

Let’s not forget boyfriend/not boyfriend guy. I wasn’t even thinking that was a title to be used at the time but someone asked if I was his gf. I was within earshot and he said yes so I figured THAT’S WEIRD. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything but I couldn’t’ help myself; I brought it up later jokingly. What I got was an awkward explanation about not knowing how to answer and then never heard from him again after that. Mature. Nicknames can happen because you just don’t want their name in your mouth again.

Oh, there’s also Dancing With The Stars guy who couldn’t hold his liquor that I talked about here. That was super cute. Who could forget The Jackrabbit and/or Jackhammer? I wish I could. He asked for my number in the morning and I straight up laughed in his face and told him no. Then I kicked him out with some excuse about having a training session at the gym. LIES.

It’s so manly it has a mustache

You don’t want a nickname. This signifies you’re not worth remembering otherwise. Sometimes it’s just more fun to call someone Curtis Stone because he vaguely resembles the chef (the hair) and is British. One might also keep calling his buddies Red Coats since you met them on Independence Day. Sometimes you call him Curtis Stone to his face too many times in the evening and it just sticks. What doesn’t is his real name. MY BAD. There are of course other guys that earn their nicknames based on what part of the world they’re from. There’s The Russian, The Irishman, The Israeli, The Frenchman (Viva la France), and The half Venezuelan/half Italian to name a few.

To be fair you guys have some pretty terrible nicknames for us too. I know; I just know you’ve referred to me by my ass or the fact that I’m short. “Blue Eyes” is unoriginal and frankly it’s boring. DON’T CALL ME THAT. I’ve also been put on the spot and asked if I in fact remember their name. I’m honest and say I don’t but am quick to ask if they remember mine. You can guess the answer. It’s a two way street is all I’m say’n. There are times when it’s all in good fun because you like them and they’re cute. Nothing comes to mind but I’m sure some of you do that, maybe.

We all have our reasons and there are plenty of them. It’s funny, you’re an asshole, it makes for a better story, or I can’t remember your name. Basically, everybody gets a nickname but if you’re lucky I might start calling you by your real actual first name.  The one that’s on your birth certificate.

 

Clandestine Affair: Is That A Kilt Or Are You Just Happy To See Me

I have a really uncanny knack for attracting guys that are so un-American (complete with accents).  It’s not something I do purposely but it tends to just happen.  Allow me to elaborate…

When you have Good Friday off there’s no better reason to enjoy Happy Hour Thursday.   At least Sarah and I attempted to make it to Happy Hour but to no one’s surprise we completely missed it.  Because I left work later then originally anticipated, I hopped over to Sarah’s so we could catch up while getting ready.  Since I was coming from my super casual office I wore a ripped t-shirt with skinny jeans and boots.  I put my hair in a half up Dutch braid and fixed my eye makeup.  Too much girl talk, Tindering, and a bottle of wine later we were ready to pounce, errr, bounce.  I had some drink coupons left over from a previous night out and figured celebrating Sarah’s birthday was a great excuse.  With drink tickets in hand we went to my favorite Happy Hour bar.

Let me tell you, this is not necessarily the place to meet guys.  I don’t go there for the crowd; I go for the delicious Passion Fruit and Lychee martinis.  I’ve said it before but it’s an interesting mix of people and you never know who will talk to you.  I’ve actually been there on a date or two, the red lights and atmosphere lend itself to a rendezvous.  Sarah and I found seats at the bar and got to ordering.  Some fairly harmless guys chatted us up and the mischief began.  I couldn’t even tell you what mundane things we were talking about, it wasn’t that interesting.  At some point these jokers realized I was a white girl with a BOOTY.  If you know me at all, you know I couldn’t let those mildly average guys get away with that unscathed.  I had to turn the tables so they could see how it feels.  Comparing their respective asses was the least I could do.  Which led to typical puffing of the male ego and I was forced to decide who had the better butt.  They were both fairly flat and equally as lame.  The only fair way to judge this particular challenge was with a firm grasp.  Oh YES.  Asses were grabbed and this time it wasn’t mine!  The final decision was a draw; there could be no victor.

(photo: someecards.com)

Retiring my judge’s robes, I decided to move on.  Or at least that’s how I vaguely remember it going.  The reality is I probably got bored and figured I would eventually find someone better to talk to.  I have a bad habit of leaving guys stranded and finding someone cuter.  Oopsies.  At any rate I took the seat next to Sarah and bought her a shot in honor of her birthday.  At some point a very bald man sat down next to me and started talking to us.  I have to say as many times as I’ve been to this bar I’ve learned the bar tender’s name but never the owner.  Very Bald Man as it so happens is the owner.  He also had some type of porkpie hat, which I disapprove of greatly.  It looks freaking stupid and we all know you are as hairless as a Sphinx Cat.  Nonetheless I was not going to let his poor fashion decisions stop me (and Sarah) from accepting free booze.  He was nice enough and the conversation was not as bad as his headgear.

A lovely blonde girl also seemed to know Very Bald Man and we all started talking.  Not only did I meet the owner but I also made a new friend.  Blonde hasn’t been in NYC too long but we discovered we are both in the same industry.   She was super nice and we have plans to hang out again.  It’s hard to make new friends as an adult and she even joked about how weird this potentially could have been.  Blonde and I also managed to evade a rather strange guy successfully.  We had a bonding moment; I mean what’s a better way to make friends then to avoid a creeper together?

I know I promised a foreign accent and here is where he comes in so RELAX.  I know you were worried.

Honestly after being half a bottle of wine, free drinks, and free shots in I don’t recall exactly how we started talking but it happened.  Clearly, the first thing I noticed was that he had an accent.  This time I’ve visited a different part of the United Kingdom: Scotland.  That’s a new one for me.  Sure there have been a few Brits and an Irishman or two but never Scottish.  I’m a sucker, what can I say?  We talked about the difference between NYC and Scotland, good bars here, and life in general.  Scotland Yard was explaining to me that he found himself acting/speaking differently for fear of NYers not being able to understand him.  I put a stop to that immediately.  There may or may not have a speech given about being who you are and not changing to please other people.  Apparently that makes me a strong woman and a bit of a feminist.  Seriously, there is no better panty dropper then a hot accent and when he throws around “a wee bit” casually how can you say no?

I’m sure flirting was also thrown in for good measure.  The conversation kept flowing and before we knew it last call approached.  Sarah was talking to another guy and we had all been sitting at a banquette.  Once the lights went on Sarah and I gave each other the “we’re ready to get out of here look.”  So that’s what happened.  I made sure Sarah got a cab (ALONE) and Scotland Yard and me walked back to my place.  I will spare you the details but I will say Scotland Yard knows how to solve a case.

Ok, now this drives me nuts and not in a good way.  He likes to cuddle…uuughhhh, I hate that.  Didn’t we just do enough touching?  Can’t I just roll over and go to sleep?  Why am I always the MAN??  STOP. TOUCHING. ME.  This was a great source of amusement for Scotland Yard but we finally got comfortable.  Numbers were exchanged and the promise of seeing each other later was made.  I figured this was it and he would disappear into the ether.  This was not to be so!

(photo: quickmeme.com)

To my utmost surprise and shock, he actually followed through.  Later that day a text was received and dinner/drinks plans were made for that night.  I figured why not, I would just go with the flow for once (instead of overthinking it and living in my head).  We walked around St. Mark’s and settled on Thai food.  Dinner conversation was all over the place, which is a good thing.  We exchanged stories about growing up, our families, and he told me he used to be in a band (they toured, whatever that means).  Damn it, another fucking musician.  There is no denying I have a type and follow a pattern.  Another bar and a few more drinks later we once again headed back to my place.

We hung out in bed for a while the next morning even though he was really here for work.  Apparently I’m very distracting.  I’m also very kissable, which seriously makes me uncomfortable.  Mushy sentiments just feel so strange when you’re thrown lines (many horrible, horrible lines) every time you go out.  I really don’t know how to not want to vomit.  I just nodded and smiled not wanting to offend Scotland Yard; he did seem sincere after all.  Again I got the “I’ll text you later” line but again I’m not one to put any weight behind it.  Also, he was heading back to Scotland the next day so I didn’t think I would be hearing from him later.

Color me surprised when he texted me that evening.  (I know, I know, he’s getting some ass so it’s not all that shocking.)  Luckily I was already out with some friends. This meant I bothered to do my hair, makeup, and put on a cute outfit.  We met up for a few drinks and more conversation.  Scotland Yard talked about how different going out here is versus home and how much he was going to miss NY.  Once again last call passed and the lights were turned on.  Following the trend we went back to my place.  More cases were solved and…ughhh…more cuddles were had.

Unfortunately the weekend had come to an end and Scotland Yard had to high tail it home across the pond.  We’ve already talked and he even sent me the pic we took together (his idea, not mine, I swear!).  There is no possible way to not laugh when you hear the word selfie in a Scottish accent.  Will I ever see him again, who knows?  What I learned is that I can be a girl sometimes, Pringle makes things other then sweaters, and I still love accents.

 

Misadventures in Dating: A Funny Thing Happened On The Way To The Bar

How does a girl go from being stood up to hit on to called a bitch in about one hour? Let me explain…

Last week I had been chatting with a guy on OkCupid and things were going well.  There was small chitchat, talk about general interests, and we seemed to have some things in common.  I should have been wary when he suggested we grab drinks that night but he was open to meeting the following evening instead.  He asked for my number and we agreed on a time for drinks.  I figured what the hell, couldn’t be any worse then the guy who turned out to be married.  That was NOT cute but we only went on three dates; bullet dodged.  Anyway, Potential Date was going to text me at some point on Friday to let me know where we were meeting.

Guys, you are lazy and very bad about timing.  Even though I hadn’t heard from him I went home after work to get ready and didn’t really think too much of it.  Testing girls on their willingness to go somewhere on the fly, being easy going, and not a “princess” is completely the opposite of awesome BTW.  We like to look nice and there’s also the venue to factor in when picking an outfit.  Please, gentlemen we would greatly appreciate it if you took that into consideration.

So, I’m in the midst of my getting ready process (running a little bit behind as usual) and still nothing.  By this point it was becoming clear he had decided it wasn’t necessary to follow through on either the date or any type of communication.  Seriously, all it takes is one lazy/lame text to get yourself out of it.  “Hey, something’s come up and I can’t make it.” Is that really so difficult?  It’s a text and come on, we’re not idiots.  We can take a hint if you’d be kind enough to not just drop off the face of the Earth or get hit by a bus or come down with a sudden case of amnesia.

shirt : Alternative Apparel   jeans : Joe’s Jeans  shoes: Via Spiga  wine: Blue Fin

After fresh hair, makeup, and a really cute outfit there was no way in hell I was staying in!  Thankfully the lovely Sarah was up for a night out.  Since I had kind of sprung this on her she still needed to get ready.  The only reasonable solution was for me to grab us a bottle of wine from trusty old Trader Joe’s and head to her place while she was getting herself together.  Of course it had to start raining and I had no umbrella.  Not to be deterred, I threw my jacket over my head and hauled ass to the subway.  Unfortunately it was not a smooth run.  Some guy stopped me and I thought he must need directions.  Why else would you stop someone in the rain who’s obviously in a bit of a rush to get somewhere?  No such luck.  Lame-o starts fumbling about how this might be awkward and he knows it’s raining but he had to say something.  He noticed me in Trader Joe’s Wine Shop and had to follow me out in order to talk.

Uhhh…I’m not sure why you thought that was adorable to admit you followed me out of a store selling alcoholic beverages into the rain but NO.  JUST NO.  I know, I know, I’m cute but this was not the work of a genius.  I was all like “Really, it’s raining and I have to be somewhere”.  Lame-o was all like “No come on, what’s your name”.  Not going to happen.  Then he starts walking next to me down the sidewalk insisting I give him my name.  I was insistent on remaining anonymous.   Apparently, politely declining a creeper gets you called a BITCH.  I’m sorry but just because I don’t give you the reaction you’re looking for that does not make me a BITCH.  If I told you to fuck off then perhaps but even then that’s not the best way to prove you’re someone I should have given my name to.  There were small children present so I decided not to curse when I yelled back at him that “OH REALLY, THAT’S HOW IT IS NOW??”

Ugghhh.  With that lovely interaction complete I dashed to the subway.  This went down all within an hour and the night was just beginning!

This is super easy to do! A quick cute hairdo in about 5 minutes, really! Bonus: Sarah’s canine baby, Kiki

Once I reached Sarah’s apt I caught her up on all my drama.  While we drank the bottle of wine she got dressed, did her make up, and I did her hair.  There is nothing a Dutch braid can’t fix!  We took our adorable selves to one of our regular spots, had some drinks, and procured free drinks as well.  Sarah found some guys she liked and I thought it best to play wing woman at this point.  The friend of the friend apparently told Sarah that he was really into me and liked girls who play hard to get.  Oh honey, that was not playing hard to get.  That was playing not interested.  I’m not sure what part of you guys aren’t my type was confusing or that I told your friend to 100% not pick me up off the actual ground or I would punch him.  You can guess what happened.

Someone please explain to me why every single freaking guy always wants to literally pick me up.  I AM NOT A DOLL.  I will not go quietly into the night.  I will, however, punch the shit out of you.

Outtakes! I have no idea how to pose..

Lesson to be learned?  Never waste a good outfit; you have no idea where the night might take you.  What started out as a shitty evening actually turned out to be pretty fun, even if I had to defend the right to walk on my own two feet.  I’M A MODERN WOMAN DAMNIT!

 

Decisions, Decisions: Planning Way Ahead

I was going to possibly, maybe, do an Oscar dress review.  Honestly I’ve been Awards Season coveraged to death.  I will say I am totally in love with Lupita Nyong’o (that dress)!  And that’s all I’m going to say about that.  Besides, I’ve had other ensemble planning sessions on my mind…

Ok, so you guys, I cannot contain my excitement any longer! It looks like I’m going to Walt Disney World this year after not setting foot inside a Park since 2007 (I know, that is a long ass time).  I owe it all to a meet up I attended last year and made some great friends there.  This won’t be happening until the fall but I’m already outfit planning.

 

I’ll see you soon Gorgeous!

I’ve started calculating which shirt I could wear to each park.  Me, being me, I know I’m going to make some purchases way before the summer even gets here.  Like a crazy person, I’ve already decided on one complete outfit.  It’s going to be something retro and perhaps reminiscent of the 70’s in honor of the Magic Kingdom’s opening date.  I have two shirt options for this one.  There are also a few elements I still need like cute yet comfy sneakers.  Although I wore holes in them, my PF Flyers were both of those things.  I might just buy myself a replacement pair.

Is this ridiculous?  Most likely but this is how my brain works!  I get super excited and immediately I’m doing a mental run through of costume changes.  What’s the weather going to be, what accessories I might need, and pieces I don’t have but will want.  Do I have new looks to put together?  More importantly, how many times is there evidence?  Have I been photographed, facebooked, instagramed in something to death?  If I purchase a piece now will I be able to hold off wearing it before the main event?  SO MANY THOUGHTS.

Do you jump the shark?  I hope you’re optimistic like me, and start planning right away!  Is there any packing or getting ready rituals you keep?  Are there any items you always take with you? Please tell me you’re an over-packer like I am.  I always like having some type of itinerary so that I can coordinate costume changes.  How many outfits per day or activity? There is so much to consider, even if it’s just a long weekend vacation.  I’d love to hear what your strategy is.   Leave me a comment or even tweet me.

I’m going to Disney World!!!

Awesomely Single: Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club

Even though Valentine’s Day is just about over (or maybe it is, depending on when you’re reading this) something tells me the World of Dating is still out there causing problems.  I’m thinking this is the time of year (aside from the whole winter holiday season) where dating websites are picking up a lot of memberships.  As someone who’s on a dating website and various apps, I thought I would share some words of wisdom, things to look out for, and a few tips.  I’ve learned some things and hopefully my sarcasm in the form of advice will be helpful.  If you haven’t figured it out by now I’m a big fan of lists so we’ll just get right down to it…

• If he’s wearing a hat in his initial profile picture there’s a very high chance he’s bald/has a majorly receding hairline/has a five-head.
• If you can barely see his face or it’s a long distance shot he most likely has some type of genetic mutation/butter face/missing teeth.
• If he’s not even in the pic, i.e. it’s his dog/cat/sports logo: RUN, GIRL, RUN
• When it’s a group shot with no obvious main character, he’s the ugly one and his friends are definitely cuter.  He’s trying to lure you in with promises of attractiveness-just not his…
• He’s checked off looking for new friends/activity partners, well, I think we all know what he’s really looking for.  SEX!  Seriously, who is looking for friends on a DATING website. No new friends!
• He doesn’t list his height; he probably doesn’t meet most rollercoaster height requirements.
• When he’s holding an alcoholic beverage or drinking an alcoholic beverage in all of his photos, he might as well have an IV drip of vodka (which doesn’t sound like a bad idea).
• He continues to put off meeting you in person, he’s obviously not who he says he is.
• Google/Facebook stalking (to a degree) is your friend.  I’m not necessarily one for this behavior but a certain someone convinced me I should.  We found out a guy I had gone on a few dates with turned out to be MARRIED.  Yeah, you should check your privacy settings.  Which leads to the next bullet point:
• Just because they say they’re single it’s not always true (mostly it is but you can never be too sure).
• Your wifed up friends will tell you you’re being “too picky.”  I think this list is proof that is a lie.
• When friends say “but he’s sooo nice.”  He’s mildly attractive and possibly a push over.   If you are not initially attracted to him or can’t at least see the potential, it ain’t gonna change lady.
• If his mom is his best friend then there’s nothing more I need to say.
• Personally, I don’t think there is such a thing as being too picky.  I know what I want and what I’m attracted to.  If that’s not you then why waste our time?
• When your friends ask you: “What are you doing with your life?” (Aka, why are you not attached) It’s perfectly ok to tell them: “Shut the fuck up, with love, of course.”
• Lastly and most importantly know this.  You are fabulous and you deserve to be happy with someone you deem worthy.  Zero fucks given.

 Take this list with a grain of salt; however, there are some truths in this.   Everyone wants to be happy, whatever road that takes you down.  If you find THE ONE that is fantastic, if you are your own THE ONE, then that’s fantastic too.

Bad Lines: It’s About to Get Real

Writing my last post got me thinking about all the cheese-tastic things guys have said to me at bars.  Spurring these thoughts are the recent onslaught of articles about online dating like this one and this one.  Ladies, you feel me on this right?  It doesn’t matter where you’re at the lines just keep coming.  (Seriously, I’ve been hit on in a Target while shopping with my mom.)  Guys, you’re not fooling us.  Seriously.  THE JIG IS UP.  Stop. Desist. Cease.  Please just talk to me like a normal human being.  Maybe something original that isn’t totally skeevy?  You do know that the more you drink the worse you sound.  Sometimes it’s not even what you’re saying but how you say it.  I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been asked, “Are those your real eyes”?  It is amusing though.  Here are some highlights (or lowlights if you will):

• That’s not your real eye color; let me see.  How about no and back away from my face.
• You’re wearing contacts?  Prove your eyes are really that blue.  Should I take an eyeball out?
• How are you making all the other girls in the bar disappear?  Abra-effing-cadabra asshole.
• I thought you said you were cold because your body feels hot right now.  I must have hot and cold running chills, I think I’m going to vomit.
• I’ve been waiting 45 minutes to try and talk to you.  You have very intimidating eyelashes.  It’s called mascara.  Thanks for letting me know you’ve been watching me for an extended period of time, go away creeper.
• Oh shit, dayyumm White Girl.  I was confused, thanks for clarifying I’m white.
• I just want to buy a pretty girl a drink; can I buy yours?  Are you sure? Ok, thanks…Bye.
• We have really great chemistry.  I can tell because standing this close to you makes me nervous and I never get nervous.  I’ve heard I have that effect on people, maybe don’t stand so close.
• You have a really great presence/aura.  It’s called confidence.
• You have so many interesting angles.  I really want to take your picture and coming from a photographer that’s the greatest compliment.  So you can hang it on your wall and stare at it? I’ll pass.
• You know I do lingerie photo shoots.  Yeahhh and I’m a Victoria’s Secret model.
• Don’t you want to dance with me; I’m a great guy (as I’m awkwardly trying to dance up on you)?  I’d rather let a dog hump my leg. 
• I like you; you’re a fun time.  WTF does that even mean?
• Spank me.  There are no words for that one…
• I would totally let you shave my head.  I hope you’re looking for some new scars.
• Oh, you work in fashion? How do I look and be honest.  You look like you got dressed in the dark, blind. 
• My friend and I were debating which is better, a pick up line or a straight approach?  (I told him to just approach.)  So, how are you? What’s your sign?  Did you really just ask me that? We’re done here. 

 I am sure there are more that I’ve mentally blocked to preserve my sanity.  Bars are a hotbed for horrible pick up lines and online is no better.  Not to say all guys throw these lame sentiment at all women all the time.  I’ve had some fairly nice things said to me too.  Guys, maybe think about how awkward you’re about to make things before opening your pie holes.  We’re more likely to be responsive if you’re just being sociable.  Consider this a PSA, you are so very welcome.

What’s the lamest/weirdest/just plain saddest line you’ve been subjected to?

 

Let’s Go Out: Aztec Patterned Twist

What does one wear when meeting someone on a whim? 

This past weekend I met up with my friend Sarah who you might remember from this post.  On my way to meet her at the lingerie store she manages, I was chatting with a guy from Tinder (don’t judge me).  Turns out he produces some traveling dancing competition show and I have to admit I was curious.  Turns out he’s also a name-dropper but that’s another issue altogether.  Sarah and I decided we needed a night on the town regardless of how this panned out.  We figured if nothing else we’d have each other, besides we’re always good for trouble.

As I headed home to start getting ready, my mind was already trying to piece together an outfit.  I didn’t want to over do it but I didn’t want to stray into completely casual territory either.  Surely it would be easy to throw on a black top and call it a night.  That’s not me; I love color.  Sarah had made the excellent suggestion to go with a blazer and a cute top underneath.  I wasn’t sure I had any blazers that didn’t scream, “I just came from work in an OFFICE”.  Then like most brilliant ideas a light bulb formed above my head.

The pieces come together

I’ve been dying to wear this cute little cropped blazer (again) that I bought at my office sample sale along with my gold New Year’s Eve skirt.  I totally dig the Aztec like pattern in earthy clay inspired colors.  The leather accents on the shoulders give it a little edge which keeps it from becoming too tapestry like.  I wanted to break up the clean lines and structure of the piece with a flowy top and I knew exactly which to wear.  I paired my blazer with a really pretty buttery yellow top from Free People. Yes, I am obsessed.  The Lace Inset Swing Cami is exactly what it sounds like.  Under the arms and at the back there are delicate lace panels.  This complimented the touches of yellow in the pattern of the blazer.  Since the weather had warmed up slightly I went with my favorite pair of ripped Joe’s jeans.  For shoes I wore my knee high dark brown lace up boots to keep my ensemble from becoming too casual.

Color and Pattern!

Finishing off any look requires the right amount of accessories.  Again, I chose my charm necklace and my jade ring for an unexpected element.  I also added some delicate knuckle rings I found on Etsy early last year.  (Which btw was a huge pain finding exactly what I wanted when nobody was really sporting them just yet.)  On the wrist with the jade ring I wore two simple gold bracelets and on the wrist with multiple knuckle rings I wore two coordinating leather bracelets.   As usual I had my hair down which meant simple earrings.  For makeup I played around with Urban Decay’s Naked original palette.

It’s the little details that make me happy

The outfit really came together and the dancing David Beckham lookalike with major ADD kept the drinks and compliments flowing.  I know that doesn’t sound like a horrible thing but I wish he would have kept his mouth shut at some point.  There is such a thing as overkill.  I will give him credit though for not only paying for my drinks but Sarah’s as well.  Once again my trusty partner in crime and I made an ordinary weekend something to talk about while looking fantastic.